The King's Challenge #306

TKC 306

Lorn Makar is a tall man, spare of frame, his hair long and dark. He too possesses two different coloured eyes, but it is hard to discern on first viewing. One knows there is something odd about his eyes, and yet it requires close scrutiny to realise the blues are of different tones. After a time of knowing him one does not see it anymore; it is simply who he is.

The tall man, cloak swinging, laughing, wanders out of the darkness eclipsed by mine and Enris’ combined green glows.

Lorn Makar.

Uncle Lorn.

Sorcerer Extraordinaire.

Enris hisses and releases my hand to shape a fist. This he raises towards the approaching man in warning, while keeping his sword levelled. “Stay back, uncle!”

Damin makes a sound; he has understood who it is we now face. This is not a Glonu; this is an Ilfin who set a trap and has now sprung it.

“Please, whelp,” Lorn murmurs in his gravelly voice, “you cannot frighten me. Douse your light; you are blinding only yourself.”

Rarely have I known Enris to doubt himself, and now I see it in him. His sword shivers and the greenness wavers markedly. With resolve I thus clasp my hand over his raised one. The eerie glows strengthen again.

“Where is our father?” I demand.

Coming to an arrogant halt a few feet away, Lorn regards us with his superior smile, eyes flicking from me to Enris and back. “I admit I am surprised you two survived despite all that has happened. It appears you father knew what he was doing.”

“Meaning?” Enris frowns. I feel how his hand shakes under mine.

“Your father told me, his younger and loved brother, how he created in you the ability to act as one entity, claiming it would stave off death and also engender in you strength. And here you are.” Lorn spreads his hands.